Panic Room
by Kokina-Kizoku
Summary: M-21 tries to face his past with the help of Frankenstein.


**Thanks to the great CatPockyLady**** for the correction! I don't own Noblesse.**

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M-21 was sitting on the operating table, shoulders sagging and shaking. The neon lights surrounded him. He hated these aggressive lights, who exposed his body on every angle, as an object to be examined. Why was this lab so quiet, so white? Normally, such pieces were filled with untold screams, blood, and atrocities...

M-21 pushed his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to control his breathing and calm his deafening heartbeat. His control slipped slowly, his thoughts mixed to leave only terrible irrational anxiety. His eyes were beginning to blur, his skin tingling, as if thousands of hands were touching him, it was as if the open air grated his bare chest... Suddenly footsteps echoed behind him. He stiffened, his breath cutting momentarily.

Frankenstein, walking with his steady and assured step, consulted his datapad as he approached the table. He was not looking at him for now, seeming to concentrate on what he was reading, and M-21 took advantage of that time to regain control of himself. But despite the fact that he had managed to find a decent appearance, he still felt the anguish lurking deep in his belly, knotting his throat and confusing his nally.

Frankenstein put down his datapad with a satisfied smile, adjusting his glasses. M-21, who had lowered his eyes, found himself obliged to look up while the scientist said cheerfully:

"Well, M-21! Everything looks great, your body has fully recovered from your last fight. However, I will have to look at a few things; a blood test will be required."

M-21 had hardly understood anything about what he said. He stared at Frankenstein's face, slightly dazzled. In the sterile and brilliant room, the only colors present were the blond hair of the scientist, who shone like gold under the neon lights, cascading over his shoulders. His blue eyes had taken a very pure, brilliant shade and, as always, very intense. He could read there an intense intellectual activity never completely at rest. There was this inhuman perfection in each of his actions, his words. Never a word too much. Never a hesitation. M-21 felt overwhelmed by this intimidating presence. He remembered at the Union scientists who looked like all-powerful gods, making creatures and torturing them for their own sake...

'But Frankenstein is not like that,' he says to himself inwardly forcefully. Usually he was able to come to terms with it. Why was it so hard to do today?

Frankenstein resumed his datapad, taking a few notes. His hands were agile and his finger gestures perfectly controlled. Hands that could steale lives and destroy everything. Twist and tear, splash blood on this immaculate scientist's shirt...

M-21 gasped and scrambled to look up at the man's face. His familiar face. Not a nameless scientist, cold and impersonal. It was In spite of everything, the feeling of anguish at the bottom of him persisted, and grew even stronger when he met the questioning look of the man. With one eyebrow raised, he looked at him over his glasses.

''Everything is okay? Maybe you have a little fever."

Frankenstein approached to be close to the werewolf, who, empty-eyed, forced himself to remain motionless. The scientist raised his hand and approached the front of that moment, something broke in M-21's mind. A flashback comes back to him with violence; a scientist grabbing his head and smashing it against the wall to test the newly acquired strength of his bones...

M21 stared at that white, cold hand that brushed against his temple. He drew back with a terrified gasp, turning his head away. The abruptness of his reaction surprised himself. Half slumped on the operating table, he straightened slightly, turning to Frankenstein. This last was frozen, his eyes wide and his hand still in the air. He lowered it slowly, taking an impassive air.

"M-21. Are you afraid of me?" Frankenstein asked in a voice that betrayed no emotion.

M-21 clenched his fists, staring at the floor. He stammered:

"I ... I ..."

After a few seconds of silence, unable to answer, he slowly raised his head to look at his interlocutor. What he saw pierced his ere was a glimmer of poignant sadness in Frankenstein's eyes. This look disappeared as soon as he met M-21's, but it was too late. M-21 had already realized that he had managed to hurt this invincible man.A terrible guilt assailed him. Frankenstein, the unbreakable, the one who never let anyone pierce his defenses, had been hurt because he, M-21, was unable to control himself.

M-21 sat down immediately on the table. His shoulders were shaking again, but his voice was firm as he said:

"Absolutely not! I'm just... It's... It hurts. I feel like I'm sick ... Maybe I'm delirious, but it's not you, not you..."

M-21 was now determined not to allow panic to invade him. He would bear the experiments that Frankenstein wanted to conduct in silence. Frankenstein had given him a house, a job, a family, an identity. The least he could do was not make him sad... However, Frankenstein looked dubious. M-21 hurried to assure him:

"Go ahead, it's good. Do the tests you need to do. I'm just... a little agitated because of the lack of sleep and... the difficulty to adapt to my new power."

Frankenstein nodded, looking worried, but M-21 could not miss the spark of relief shining in his eyes. He had a tense smile, which faded as soon as he noticed the needle that the scientist was about to insert into his arm.

M-21 closed his eyes, thinking it would help him face the moment. He was wrong. Instead, as the needle pierced his skin, he saw the panic room again, with contensions and torture devices. He again felt the infamous liquid flooding his veins, forcing him to stay awake for weeks, his body on the verge of agony, while he was planting his nails in the palms of his hands to forget the overwhelming fatigue...

M-21 opened his mouth and did not hear his own scream. The beatings of his own heart became deafening, the sound filled his ears and he felt like he was meone was holding him.

''M... 21! Answer me!''

He opened his eyes and was blinded by an azure glow. Suddenly, everything returned to normal; his hearing became stable again, he could distinguish the laboratory and, above all, the fretful face of Frankenstein.

''M! Talk to me.''

M-21 focused on the blue infinity of Frankenstein's eyes, trying to ignore everything else. Gradually his breathing calmed down, and he was ashamed to feel tears streaming down his cheeks. Tears were not a good thing. The scientists hit him laughing and calling him 'weak' when he cried.

He lowered his head, and felt the grip of Frankenstein's hands on his shoulders firm. One of them came down on his back, holding him closer as he was shaking.

"Breathe." said a voice far and wide, "As long as you can breathe, everything will be fine."

M-21 followed the advice of the voice and focused on his breathing. The room was silent except for the sound of their two breaths, their two human and living breaths. When he opened his eyes again, raising his head, the beating of his heart had finally calmed down. He ran his hand over his face soaked in sweat.

"Is it the Union?"

M-21 stopped his movement, hiding his eyes with his fingers.

''It was.''

He sighed heavily, and the words locked forever out.

"These memories are stuck in my head. I see their faces, empty of compassion, but so perfect, intact, as I would never be. I hear them scream. To reduce to dust everything that matters to me. And their words... were so much worse than their blows. One shot is like the bite of an animal. But the words are...humans."

The last sentence knotted in M-21's throat and he let the tears fall from his lashes, no longer worrying about shame. All his barriers were falling, he was falling in front of Frankenstein, and despite the benevolence of the man, he could not help but feel devoured by shame.

''What did they say?" The scientist asked, his soft voice in contrast with his jaw tight with anger.

"It was... often things like... that my existence was scarcely real, for I would never have any value in the eyes of anyone.''

"Hm. They made a mistake, did they not?" Murmured Frankenstein. The aura of the Dark Spear was getting slightly stronger. M-21 did not care and made a weak smile, continuing by telling:

"Sometimes they even had fun making me believe that all this was just a staging, a kind of dream I never woke up to. A bit like Takeo and his fake sister, but it was like my whole life had been simulated for their own pleasure... And sometimes I believed them."

M-21 stopped talking, embarrassed by the silence that was growing ever deeper. He watched the progress of the Dark Spear closely. A purple glow blinked in Frankenstein's eyes, then disappeared like a flame going out. The aura had completely disappeared when the man slowly sat down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"M-21, look at me and listen carefully to what I am going to tell you. These scientists wanted to crush you. In your eyes, they saw their own helplessness, their own hate against the more powerful people. They saw in it their revolt against the higher beings, against their unlimited power. Power, M-21... That's what humans have always wanted. More than happiness. More than love."

The grip of Frankenstein's hand tightened, and M-21 was shocked to hear his voice tremble as he murmured:

"And to reach power, you have to sacrifice everything. You must flout life."

Frankenstein, averting his eyes, removed his hand, seeming to try to sort out his ideas. Eyes down, M-21 respectfully waited until he found the words. He had no doubt that, just as he had opened himself to talk about his past, this conversation must have been very difficult for Frankenstein. Finally, the scientist began to speak again, and even if his face showed no emotion, his voice was loaded with so much fervor that M-21 shuddered.

"But what humans do not understand is that there is nothing more sacred than life.M-21, you can not even imagine ..."

"I understand. You're talking about the importance of respecting life."

The man nodded, explaining in a low voice: "Your existence has always made sense. You are part of the huge chain of evolution. Billions of years have been needed to arrive at your genetic endowment..."

M-21 could not help interrupting him, clenching his fists: "Yes, if my physical and psychological characteristics have not been created upon request by the Union."

"Then it would make you my child."M-21 turned his head in less than a second, stunned. "What do you mean?"

Frankenstein smiled and said: "The union stole my experimental data and used it to create you. Does not that make you my child?"

"You ... you ..." M-21 did not trust himself to hold back his tears again. Family. We are a family. Tears overflowed his eye. He forced himself to concentrate. Before letting feelings overwhelm him again, there was one more thing he had to ask.

"Frankenstein?"

"Yes, my child?"

M-21 put his hand against his mouth to suppress the sob that was threatening to come out. He began to breathe quickly again, but stopped as soon as Frankenstein's hand rested on his shoulder. He closed his eyes a few moments, then found the will to articulate:

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Have you always respected life?"

Frankenstein's gaze darkened so much that M-21 almost regretted asking the question. Almost. He had to know.

"No, of course. Have not you already realized that I'm crazy?" He whispered with a sadistic smile in his mouth. A burst of Dark Spear shimmered in his eyes. Millions of tortured souls shouting vengeance.

Anyone would have been terrified. Would have panicked.

M-21 dropped to Frankenstein's chest, wrapping his arms around his neck. He felt so exhausted. So safe. All his anguish had evaporated thanks to man's words. And as it seemed he needed to hear it, M-21 said it.

"I'm not afraid of you and your madness. I trust you…"

Frankenstein swallowed, wrapping his arms awkwardly. M-21 smiled: there were very few people who could boast of having moved the great Frankenstein.

"Of course, I already knew that," he argued, but M-21 could hear a hint of relief again in his voice. M-21 only nodded, too tired to make a mocking remark. He murmured:

"One last thing... This thing, my child, keep it for when we're alone. Crying in front of Rael would be a bit embarrassing." He chuckled and mumbled a 'okay '. M-21 closed his eyes and fell asleep feeling scarcely Frankenstein lifting him up.

* * *

In the days that followed, Frankenstein stopped wearing his scientist shirt and glasses in the laboratory. When the others questioned him, he replied cheerfully that white was strictly reserved for his master. Following this strange argument, all the inhabitants of the house, without exception Rael, had to eliminate all the white pieces of their.

And no one understood why M-21 seemed to laugh secretly, and look gratefully at Frankenstein every time the incident was evoked.

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**I hope you enjoyed! I know that the ''Where's my guy'' incident had pissed off a lot of people in the Fandom, so I thought I would write a story about it (correcting the monumental translation error of course). What do you think?**


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